


Your Touch

by etoile_etiolee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fever, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sick Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoile_etiolee/pseuds/etoile_etiolee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for this challenge: SPN/CW RPF FREE-FOR-ALL DIRTY PORN MEME</p><p>My prompt was: Dean has a fever and his skin is extra sensitive to touch. This is mostly unpleasant, except when Sam touches him a certain way, they discover! Sexy times ensue.</p><p>Yes, another one of my fever Dean fics.</p><p>Beta work by dineymagics</p><p>Disclaimer: No profits are made with this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Touch

Dean shivers when Sam gets under the sheet –the only thing Dean will allow to cover his fevered body. He's naked underneath, can't stand the brush of fabric against his skin. That's why Sam ends up lying next to him even if he can't touch him. Dean says he needs Sam's heat.

"You okay? How's the pain?"

"Better." Dean rasps, eyes dark and burning in the middle of his flushed face. He's still surfing his codeine's high. Who knew a hear infection could be so painful? The antibiotics prescribed by the doctor had just start working, and if the fever has lowered a little, it hasn't broke.

Dean tends to become overly sensitive whenever he suffers from a fever: noises are too loud, lights too bright, smells too strong and his skin seems unable to sustain the slightest touch without hurting. Hence the light sheet and the no-clothes-no-touching rule.

"Need something?"

"No. Just wanna go back to sleep."

"There's a bottle of water on the-"

"Nightstand. I know, mom. Go to sleep, m'alright."

Sam turns toward him and has to fight the urge to sweeps his fingers into Dean's damp hair. He closes his eyes instead, biting his lips. He feels Dean squirming on the mattress to get as close to him as he can without actually touching him. Sam smiles and lets himself drifting off to sleep. It has been a damn long day.

He wakes up suddenly, though, with the impression that drifting off is all he had time to do. Dean is hissing in his ear. "Get your sasquatch paw away from me."

Sam, still lightly confused, realizes that he's facing Dean, one of his arms wrapped around his waist. Dean blinks at him, frowning.

"You're hurting me Sam."

"Sorry, I was sleeping. I didn't…"

It really is an accident, though, when Sam's fingers brush against Dean's semi-erect shaft while he withdraw his arm. Dean shivers violently, eyes closed shut in pain. 

"God, I knew I should have taken two queens," Sam mumbles.

"No. Wait. Do it again."

"What?"

Dean bits his lips. "My dick. Touch it."

"What?"

"Ya know, looking at you right now, it's kind of hard to think you got a full ride to Sanford."

Sam huffs but obeys, delicately pressing his fingers against the swollen tip, feeling it twitching under his ministration. Dean moans softly.

"Doesn't hurt?"

"No. S'good."

"Oh. Intersting," Sam whispers, getting a better grip around Dean's cock as it hardens rapidly.

"You're a… -yeah like that- you're a dork."

Sam smiles and starts jerking Dean off in a soft but sure motion. He can feel his own erection rising up against his stomach at the sight of Dean's face, hearing his already labored breath. Maybe it's the codeine, or the fever, but Dean doesn't hold anything back. His mouth is slack, his nostrils flaring and his eyebrows frowned in concentration. Sam's grip around his length tightens and he moves faster, gliding his thumb on the head and gathering the few precome drops dripping from the slit. He uses his other hand and gently cups Dean's already tight sac, watching his expression carefully to be sure he doesn't hurt him.

"Yeah, shit, Sam, so good," Dean mumbles. He lick his lips and arches his back, pushing his cock in Sam's hand while letting out soft, high-pitched moans that has Sam so worked out he can feel his cock throbbing almost painfully.

"Getting close?" He asks, rolling Dean's balls into the palm of his hand.

Dean answers with a chocked "Nguh…" as his eyes crosses briefly. He closes them, his hand searching Sam's cock under the sheet. He starts jerking it in clumsy uneven motion but Sam doesn't need more. He keeps his eyes focused on Dean's face, the way his eyebrows start to rise, the way his mouth is slowly but surely forming an "O", and that's what come out between pants: "oh, oh, oh", still in a high-pitched tone –a sound that Sam has never heard before. Dean is more of the grunting/groaning type during sex.

"Come on," Sam pleads, feeling his own orgasm building up fast deep inside of him. "Come on, Dean."

Dean whimpers and says his name, almost pleading. His hips move faster now. Sam presses the tender spot beneath his cockhead on each pull, urges him to let go. "Come on, Dean. Almost there, are you? Gonna come for me?"

Sam isn't usually the dirty-talk type but he knows Dean loves it, even if he would never admit it.

"M'close, Dean says. "M'close… so… fucking… Don't stop please don't-"

Then he's gone, his body shivering and tensing as his sweat damps the sheets, almost sobbing while Sam milks his orgasm out of him. Dean has apparently forget he was doing anything with his hand, and Sam, trapped on the edge, closes his other hand around Dean's shaking one. All it takes is one hard pull before Sam is coming as well, letting out a long groan that may or may not be Dean's name.

As always, Sam kind of loses it for a short time and when he comes back from his high, he sees Dean looking at him, a small smile quirking out his mouth.

"So," Sam says, clearing his throat.

"Yeah."

"That sensitive skin thing of yours… Not all bad."

"Shut up," Dean replies almost playfully. "M'sick. Get a washcloth."

Sam clean the both of them, being particularly gentle with the towel against Dean's stomach and hand. His brother looks at him intently with wide, bright eyes, a child-like expression on his face, as if he's finally allowing Sam to take care of everything, him included.

Sam doesn't go back to sleep immediately. He sits on the bed and watches over Dean in the quiet night.

Fin


End file.
